The cry of a crow sounds in the distance, a peaceful song that sings to my soul.
There’s no mistaking that I belong in the country. My return has only cemented how much I love my lifestyle.
If only . . .
This rocking chair has become my best friend.
When things get too much, which is often, rocking keeps me sane. Just like a baby, it soothes me until I feel better. In slow motion, the gentle rays of gold disappear over the mountain as the sun sets.
Six weeks without him.
Without a kiss, a hug, a private joke . . . love.
And some days fly by while on others I feel like I can hardly breathe.
Barely clinging to life.
I dial the number, and I wait. The voice recording answers.
The mobile phone you have called is switched off.
“Where are you, Eddie?”
I’m getting worried. I haven’t heard from him for a couple of weeks now. We take turns calling each other, and it’s his turn . . . but he hasn’t called, and now he’s not answering.
It’s so unlike him. I can almost set my clock to the minute by how reliable his calls are.
I hope he’s okay.
He is. Stop overthinking it.
Darkness falls, and the warm breeze blows over me, whipping my hair about my face and bringing a million beautiful memories home. I smile at the thought of my beautiful Christopher. I don’t regret for a single moment falling in love with him, because now I know how it feels to be in heaven, when just for a while . . . he was mine.
I lean back in my rocking chair and pull the knit blanket over my legs as I relax into the night.
If only . . .
Ten days later
The plane touches down in Barcelona, and I watch the tarmac speed by through the window. I haven’t been able to reach Eddie, and I’m really beginning to worry. I know that surely there’s a reasonable excuse for why he’s not answering his phone, but I can’t relax until I’ve checked on him.
And besides, I needed an excuse to get out of town. The farm is making me feel claustrophobic.
Honestly, I don’t know where the fuck I’m supposed to be at the moment. Everywhere feels wrong, and I’m hoping distance will give me some clarity.
I haven’t started working again yet. Every time I go to commit to a position, something holds me back, and it’s ridiculous, because I really need to get my shit together. I’m twenty-six, and I don’t even have a job.
Ugh . . .
I’m trying to be kind to myself. Once I’m over this heartbreak, things will be different, I’m sure.
I go through the motions and get off the plane, collect my luggage, and catch an Uber to the hostel, and as the car pulls up to the curb, I look out through the window in wonder. A million beautiful memories come flooding in.
There it is . . .
The hostel where we met.
The driver gets out of the car, interrupting my thoughts, and I tentatively get out.
I wasn’t expecting this place to bring back so much emotion.
“Here you go, miss.” The driver puts my suitcase down on the sidewalk.
“Thank you.”
“Have a good night.”
“You too.”
He gets in and drives off, and I stand and stare at the hostel building. I don’t even know if I want to go in now. Is being here going to undo all the healing I’ve been going through? Too bad . . .
I need closure. Just go in.
I wheel my suitcase in and up to reception. It’s just before 10:00 p.m., and I know reception closes soon. The desk is unattended. “Hello,” I call.
I can hear music and laughter coming from the bar area, and I smile. Nothing has changed around here.
“Coming,” a female voice calls from the back office.
I wait patiently, and she eventually comes into view. “Sorry, I was on the phone.” She smiles. She’s new; I haven’t seen her before.
“That’s okay. I have a booking in the name Hayden Whitmore.”
“Sure.” She types into her computer. “Okay, you’re in a private room for a week?”
“Yes.”
She goes about scanning the keys and whatnot, and I look around at the familiar surroundings. There’s no denying that this place makes me feel better.
“Actually, can you extend that booking to two weeks if possible?” I ask.
“Let me look.” She types again. “Yeah, that’s fine.” She passes my key over. “Have you stayed with us before?”
“Yes.” I smile.
“Great. You’re on the top floor, room two oh nine. Take the stairs at the back of the corridor. The elevator is broken.”
That damn elevator has never worked since I first came here over a year ago.
“Thank you. Do you know if Eddie is working in the bar tonight?” I ask her.
“No idea, sorry,” she replies. “I’ve been too swamped. I haven’t even been out there.”
“Okay, thanks.”
I walk up the corridor and lug my bag up the two flights of stairs as I smile to myself. Can’t complain about the service at backpackers’ hostels, because there is none.
I trudge up the corridor, find my room, and open the door. There’s a double bed and a bedside table and a sink with a mirror over the top of it. It’s clean and neat. I wish there were en suite rooms left. Oh well. It will be fine. “This will do nicely.” I put my bag down and wash my face and put my hair into a high ponytail.
I change into a cool summer dress and make my way downstairs to the bar.
The music is loud, and people are dancing. Party lights are strung over the courtyard, and the place is pumping.
“Hey, baby.” Some guy smiles as he looks me up and down. “Where you going?”
“Hi.” I fake a smile and keep walking as I look for Eddie. Ugh . . . nowhere with you. I push through the crowd, and then I see him. He’s serving a big group of guys, and he glances up. His face lights up, and without missing a beat, he runs out from behind the bar and nearly knocks me off my feet as he grabs me. “Hazen.” He hugs me so tight. “You came back.”
I laugh. “Of course I came back. I’ve been so worried. Why aren’t you answering your phone?” I ask him.
His face falls. “It got stolen.”
“Oh . . . baby.” I can see how disappointed he is. “That’s okay. You’ll get another one soon.” He seems to be giant now. “Have you grown six inches?” I laugh.
“Little bit.”
I hold him at arm’s length as I look him up and down. “Thank god you’re okay.”
He smiles goofily down at me. He’s taller than me now.
“Look how handsome you are.” I smile proudly.
He puts his arm around me, keeping me close. “Are you staying here?”
“Yes. You go back to work, and I’ll see you later.”
“You’re not leaving, are you? Sit at the bar, and I’ll get you a drink,” he says hopefully as he pulls me out a stool at the end of the bar.
“Okay.” I smile as I sink into the seat.
Eddie runs back behind the bar, makes me a drink, and puts it down in front of me. “Thank you.”
“I finish at one,” he tells me.
“I’ll be in bed long before one, bubba.”
He smiles goofily at me.
“What?”
“You called me bubba.”
I swoon at the cuteness of this boy. “Of course I called you bubba. You are a bubba.”
He laughs and goes back to serving. I pick up my drink and take a sip. I glance up and lock eyes with Christopher. He’s sitting at the other end of the bar.
What?
We stare at each other, and he gives me a slow, sexy smile.
My heart somersaults in my chest as if in slow motion. He gets up and walks over to me.
“Grumps.” He smiles softly.
“Hi.”
He leans down and hugs me, and I close my eyes against his big strong shoulder. His aftershave wafts around me.
I miss him.
“What are you doing here?” he asks.
“I couldn’t reach Eddie. I was worried. What about you?”
“Same.”
We stare at each other as this beautiful familiarity falls between us. I gesture to the stools. “Sit down and have a drink with me.”
“Okay.” He pulls out his stool, and we both sit down. Nerves dance in my stomach.
Is this truly happening? What are the chances of running into each other on the other side of the world?
“How have you been?” he asks.
“Okay,” I lie. “And you?”
He shrugs. “Been better.”
Oh . . .
My eyes search his, and I just want to hug him and blurt out that I love him and beg him to take me back.
“When did you get here?” I ask.
“A week ago.”
I frown. I thought he was stupidly busy?
“I found out that Eddie is an orphan and lives on the streets,” he says softly.
“What?” I frown.
“He’s all alone, Grumps.”
My face falls as I look over to Eddie smiling happily as he serves someone. “Where are his parents?”
“Never knew his father, and his mother died when he was eight. No surviving relatives. He was in the foster care system but was put with assholes and ran away when he was eleven.”
“Are you serious?”
He nods sadly.
“My god, poor Eddie.”
“He can’t read or write,” he says softly.
My eyes well with tears.
“I’m taking him home with me.”
“What do you mean?” I frown. He’s making decisions about his long-term future without consulting me?
Because we’re over.
“He’s going to come and live with me in London.” He shrugs. “That’s if I can get him out of the country.”
I stare at him, my mind a clusterfuck of confusion.
“He doesn’t have a passport or a birth certificate. I’ve got my friend Sebastian Garcia helping me. You know, the one you met?”
I stare at him, so thrown by what he’s telling me I can’t even make a coherent sentence. “No?”
“He was on the yacht in Greece with Julian Masters.”
Oh . . . the good-looking one.
“The one with the dark hair?” I ask as I act dumb.
“That’s him. He’s a politician in London and of Spanish descent. He’s helping me with the red tape.”
“Christopher . . .” I pause as I try to collect my thoughts. “You can’t take him out of Spain. It’s his home.”
“Is it?” he replies with an annoyed tone. “He slept on a stained mattress on the floor, all alone in a deserted house. No plumbing, no electricity. Nothing. He had my postcards pinned to the wall with a photograph of you in the center. We are literally all he has, Hayden, and I can’t leave him here. I won’t.”
I look over to Eddie serving a group of men at the bar, and I’m overcome with emotion. The lump in my throat hurts as I try to swallow.
Poor Eddie.
“Even if it’s just until he’s eighteen or nineteen and old enough to get a rental on his own,” he says softly. “I can get him schooled to read and write so he at least stands a chance.”
I nod as I listen, remaining silent.
There are no words for this situation. I’m completely shell shocked.
Christopher’s eyes hold mine. “What are you thinking?”
I sip my drink and shrug. “Have you really thought about what this means for your future? A child is a lot to take on, Christopher.”
“I know.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “But what am I supposed to do, Grumps?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper.
We sit in silence for a while.
“What does he think about all this?” I ask.
He shrugs. “He seems excited to come with me. I mean . . . what are his other options? Be scared every day that some fucker is going to steal his phone while he sleeps on the floor?”
Fuck.
I can’t imagine being all alone. How frightening it must be for him. Christopher’s silhouette blurs, and I quickly wipe my tears out of my eyes.
Christopher stares straight ahead. He looks like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders . . . and now I know that he does.
“You’re such a good man, Christopher.”
His eyes hold mine, and the air crackles between us. He slowly reaches over and tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. “It’s so good to see you, Grumps.”
I’ve never needed to hug someone so badly in my life.
And I can’t.
My heart beats faster, and I’m in information overload. Everything is different, but nothing has changed. Our fucked-up situation is still the same and yet now even messier.
There’s a child.
I stand abruptly. “I should get going.”
“What, where to?” He seems surprised.
“Bed. I’m . . . exhausted.”
“Are you staying here?” He frowns.
“Yes.”
“Me too.” He gives me a soft smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”
“Okay, bye,” I blurt out in a rush. I need to get away from him right now.
This is all just too fucking much.
I catch Eddie’s eye and blow him a kiss and make my way up to my room. I burst through the door and begin to pace.
What now?
CHRISTOPHER
I lie on the sand in the darkness. The distant thrill of partying sounds in the distance. The beach is quiet and deserted. There are a million things running through my mind.
Seeing her tonight . . .
It’s unnatural not to touch Hayden . . . to hold her in my arms and tell her how much I need her.
I never believed in love. I thought it was a fantasy that only lonely people talked themselves into needing. I didn’t think that it was possible to care for someone as much as I do her. And I know that we can’t be together, and I know that it will never work out between us, but seeing her in the flesh has opened a wound . . . my heart aches for what it can’t have.
Another moment in her arms.
I get a vision of her at the bar earlier tonight, so detached, so unlike the warm and gentle Hayden I know.
Seven weeks have dragged so slowly, and yet seeing her tonight, it’s like she never left.
Everything feels the same, perhaps even stronger.
I’m completely and utterly fucked.
I stare up at the moon. So many nights Hayden and I would lie on this beach and dream about the future. But looking back now, it was her doing all the dreaming while I listened. I already knew my fate . . . I just never let on at the time. If only I was honest with myself and her, then I could have saved us both a lot of heartache.
Hindsight is a wonderful thing.
If only . . .
HAYDEN
I walk into the cafeteria with a new sense of purpose. A good night’s sleep has worked wonders. I was so rude last night when Christopher told me his plans with Eddie. I wasn’t supportive at all, but in my defense, I was in total shock.
Christopher taking on Eddie is the last thing I would expect, but after thinking on it all night, I’m not surprised. Christopher has the biggest heart of anyone I know.
Of course he would take him on. He adores him. And he’s right: he can’t leave him here all alone.
I catch sight of Christopher sitting at the back table. He’s on the phone, and he gives me a wave.
Right . . .
I drop my shoulders, determined to be a better person, and I make my way over and sit down beside him.
Christopher smiles as he listens to the person on the other end of his phone call. “Right.” He listens. “And there is absolutely no way to expedite this?”
He frowns and then drags his hand down his face. “Fuck . . .”
Is something wrong? “What’s going on?” I mouth.
He rolls his eyes. “Thank you, I appreciate it.” He listens again. “So I’ll just wait to hear from you, then?”
I sit quietly as I listen in.
“Okay, thanks.” He hangs up and lets out a deep sigh.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“There’s good news and bad news.”
“Good first.”
“I can get Eddie out of the country if I sponsor him as an employee rather than as a homeless child.”
“Okay, well, that’s good.” I smile. “What’s the bad news?”
“It’s going to take a couple of weeks to organize the paperwork.”
“Why is that a problem?”
“I have to be back at work. There’s no way around it. I have meeting after meeting booked, and I can’t cancel again, but then I can’t leave him here alone either. If something happens to him, I’ll never forgive myself.”
“Oh . . .” I think for a moment. “I could stay here with him.”
Christopher frowns.
“Yeah, why not?” I shrug. “I don’t have to be back for anything. I’ll just stay here with him, and you and he can keep working, and then when the paperwork is ready, you can come back and collect him.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“Of course I’d do that for you. I’d do anything for you, Christopher.”
“Really?”
“You’re my best friend.” I smile.
His face falls. “You’ve friend zoned me?”
“Babe . . .” I shrug as I put my hand over his on the table. “We started out as friends, and we will always be friends.”
“But what about . . .”
“Our situation hasn’t changed, and no matter how much we care for each other . . .” My voice trails off, not wanting to say the words out loud.
“You’re right,” he agrees. “We will never work. I do know that.”
My heart drops. I was hoping he would tell me that there’s a solution to our problem.
Nothing has changed.
“So when will you leave?” I ask to change the subject.
“Tomorrow.”
“Oh.”
His eyes hold mine.
“So soon?”
“Yes.”
I nod, deflated. “Okay.”
“I’ll get you a nice apartment to stay in.”
“No, we’re okay here. Eddie can still work then, and it’s not so different for him.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, of course.” I smile. “You go back to London and do what you have to do. We’ll be fine.”
I want to blurt out that I don’t care about my life plans anymore. As long as he is in them, then I can make do. But I know I can’t. I made my bed, and now I need to lie in it.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can for him.”
For him.
“Okay.” I force a smile. “He’s a lucky boy to have you take him on.”
“I’m the lucky one.”
We stare at each other and . . .
Oh . . .
My heart aches for this beautiful man.
Eddie saunters into the restaurant like a rock star, and Christopher smiles and waves him over. “Eddie, my man.”
“Hello, Hazen.” He smiles as he sits down beside me.
“Good morning, bubba.” I smile as I wipe the hair back from his forehead. He smiles down at me, and my heart melts. I do love this boy.
“Good news,” Christopher tells him. “They are organizing the paperwork for you to come and stay with me.”
Eddie’s eyes widen in excitement. “They are?”
“They are.” Christopher smiles. “But . . . it’s going to take a little while.”
“How long?”
“A few weeks, and I have work to do, so I’m going to go back to London.”
Eddie’s face falls.
“But Hazen is staying with you until I get back.”
Eddie’s eyes flick to me for confirmation.
“Is that okay?” I smile.
He bites his bottom lip to hide his smile. “And then are you coming to London with us?” he asks hopefully.
“Hazen doesn’t live in London,” Christopher answers for me. “She lives in the country.”
“Oh.” Eddie frowns as he contemplates the answer.
“You and I will have fun while Christopher is gone.” I smile to try to reassure him.
He nods, and I can tell he’s nervous that Christopher isn’t coming back.
“He’s coming back for you, Eddie, I promise.”
Eddie’s eyes search mine, and then he looks over to Christopher.
“Of course I’m coming back for you. I told you, we belong together,” Christopher tells him.
Ouch . . .
I get a lump in my throat, and I push my chair out in a rush before I make a fool of myself. “I have things to do today. I’ll see you both later?” I stand.
“Okay.” Eddie smiles happily. “Bye.”
“Bye.” I leave the restaurant and walk out of the hostel into the street. I really don’t have anything to do, but I do know that I can’t stay anywhere in the vicinity of Christopher Miles. Onward and upward.
I need to stay strong.
I walk into the communal bathroom just at 11:00 p.m. There are a few showers going, but thankfully it’s reasonably empty.
I left the hostel bar over an hour ago.
It’s hard to be around him, especially when he won’t even look at me. I’m suffering the slowest, most painful kind of fate.
I put my things down on the sink and take a long hard look in the mirror. An unrecognizable sad face stares back at me.
I’ve lost him.
I exhale heavily and walk into the cubicle and turn on the tap. I hang my towel over the hook and undress. I step in and put my head back under the hot water. I’m going to wash my hair to try to make myself feel better.
I step out of the water to grab my toiletries bag, only it’s not on the shelf.
“What the fuck?” I brought it in. I know I did.
Damn it, I left it on the sink out there. I wrap my towel around me and open the cubicle door and come face to face with Christopher. He’s naked, with a white towel around his waist. He’s suntanned and rippled with muscle. His broad chest weakens me at the knees.
Before I can stop myself, I make an audible gasp. “What are you doing?” I stammer.
“Showering.” His eyes drop down my body, and when they rise back to my eyes, they are blazing with desire.
You could cut the air with a knife.
Then he is on me. He slams me up against the wall and grabs a handful of my hair, dragging my head back so that my eyes meet his. “You need to fuck me.”
The air crackles between us.
“I know.”
His lips take mine, and I screw up my face against his. The kiss is wild, crazy, and filled with pent-up emotion.
Mostly hate for what we’ve put each other through . . .
He pushes me into the cubicle, slams the door shut, and then pins me to the wall.
We kiss like our lives depend on it. Emotional overload, and our teeth clash as we lose control.
He tears his towel off, and his large erection springs free. It hangs heavily between his legs, and I whimper as I feel it up against me.
Yessss!
He lifts me, spreads my legs open, and then, holding himself at the base, slides home in one sharp movement.
“Fuck yeah . . . ,” he whispers.
We stare at each other as my body stretches to accommodate him.
Oh . . . I’ve missed him so.
He pulls out slowly and slides in deep. We do this a few times, and then he loses control and fucks me, hard and fast.
Angry.
The sound of our wet skin slapping echoes in the bathroom, and I see stars.
He’s all-consuming as he takes me over, his teeth biting my neck, his hands cupping my ass, his cock stretching me wide open with deep, thick pumps.
But it’s my heart that’s in danger . . . it’s free-falling from my chest, running down the drain with the water.
He’s fucking me like he doesn’t know me, as if we’re strangers.
Maybe we are.
He holds himself deep, and I feel the telling jerk as he comes deep inside my body, and I screw up my face in tears. He never comes before me . . . never once has he done that.
He honestly doesn’t care anymore.
He looks down at me, seeing my tears. His haunted eyes search mine.
“I can’t do this,” he whispers.
He pulls out and rushes from the cubicle. I hear his shower turn on, and I sob silently.
Alone.
He’s washing me off him . . . for the last time.
